


See You Heal

by Firekitten



Category: RWBY
Genre: And like, M/M, all the kids - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-02-22 22:40:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23968162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Firekitten/pseuds/Firekitten
Summary: Qrow knows ignoring the problem only makes it worse. Unfortunately, dealing with it has its own set of problems too.[A companion, sequel-style gift fic to Robiness' Slow Sunrise series]
Relationships: Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi
Comments: 8
Kudos: 82





	See You Heal

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Robiness](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Robiness/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Maybe Just Stay](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22527583) by [Robiness](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Robiness/pseuds/Robiness). 



> This is what happens some mornings. I wake up and think: "I have a fanfic idea". Then I spend the better part of a weekend writing it.
> 
> Seriously though, Robiness' Slow Sunrise series is one of the best fix-it fics out there and if you haven't read it yet - well, go do that! Especially before this one, because this takes place well after the 4th installment... so, it has spoilers out the wazoo.
> 
> Soft disclaimer: Nothing in this story reflects any actual choices the original author will choose to do as they move forward with their tale.

Sometimes, Qrow wished his standard for dealing with shit wasn’t ‘‘Ignore it until it goes away’.

It didn’t work. He knew it didn’t work – and yet sometimes his traitorous brain thought: _maybe this time it’ll be different_. So, when the issue of Clover not liking anyone at his six came up, like a scroll that had been factory reset, he defaulted. Hoped in the most ironic ways that the problem would just fix itself or at the very least, never become a problem.

That was why, as he gusted through the air trying to spot the nearest nomadic settlement, all he could see instead was Clover’s dismayed expression.

Really, he only had himself to blame.

They’d been traveling through Vacuo’s unforgiving desert for hours. It was a six-day journey to reach Shade Academy, most of which they had to do on foot as no locals at the city border ever escorted anyone across the desert without a price. Though they’d gotten an early start, beginning their trek even before the sun had peaked the horizon, as the day waned the sands around them began to shimmer as the heat rose to unbearable heights. Add onto that an unstable ground that left them all unsteady on their feet, relentless winds that whipped sand along exposed skin and eyes, and the occasional Grimm or wildlife lying in wait for an attack, and it just seemed like a recipe for disaster.

So, when the Sidewinder Grimm leapt from the dunes they were walking across and struck out at Weiss, all but two of them either didn’t react fast enough, or stumbled when they tried. The first of the two that had was Clover, who had his fishing line around Weiss in an instant and yanked her his way. The second was Ruby, who sped above the field like a shot, petals and dust following her wake as she managed to get in the first blow.

Within seconds, the rest of them recovered and suddenly the snake had ten skilled opponents bearing down on it. It certainly wasn’t a long battle, but enough to get the adrenalin going. The kids seemed to take it as they saw it, realizing the threat was over once the smoke cleared. But more veteran huntsmen like himself kept on guard a little longer.

Or like Clover – who wasn’t expecting Jaune to come up behind him and give him a congratulatory pat on the back.

The reaction was instantaneous. Clover yelped as he twisted and swung Kingfisher right at the boy’s head.

The clang of metal hitting metal seemed to echo the world into silence.

Jaune, shield shadowing his face, looked tense and a little frightened.

Clover just looked horrified.

And then he was faltering back, dropping his weapon into the sand. “I’m- I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to- are you okay?!”

“I’m, fine.” Jaune answered a little shakily, trying to laugh it off. “I don’t think now is the time for a training exercise though.”

Clover tried to meet him, but his own chuckle rang hollow. “No. No it’s not.” He ran a hand agitatedly through his hair. “I really am sorry. I, I don’t know what came over me.”

“It’s too hot.” Weiss was the one to offer, turning the attention her way. “I’m having trouble too.”

It sounded logical. Believable. Of course the Atlesians weren’t accustomed to blistering heat like this and would be most likely to succumb to its’ effects.

Only Qrow knew the truth of the matter. Tried not to think how a desert wasn’t so unlike a tundra – open space, unsteady footing, extreme weather.

“We need to get out of this sun.” Blake decided.

Ruby nodded in agreement. “Right. Uncle Qrow, can you scout ahead and see if you can spot something?”

That’s how he ended up in the sky, canting in great big circles like a vulture and looking to every horizon as he tried to make out a camp or an outcropping or a cactus. Anything that might provide shade or water. It took a few cycles, increasing his radius at every turn, before finally managing to see several flutterings in the distance. Upon closer inspection, he knew it was the tarps of caravans, moving southwest. Which meant stable ground and civilization.

He dove back towards the group, morphing just shy of his landing. “Looks like someone’s on the move several miles that way. There’s probably a temporary camp nearby.”

Or if there wasn’t, there would be.

“Right, then let’s move.” Ruby ordered, turning to the robot beside her. “Penny maybe you can try and keep us cool in the meantime?”

“I will give it my best shot!”

Their conversation faded to background noise as his focus instead shifted to Clover who, for the first time since they’d begun traveling together, took lead instead of rear. A silent attempt to rebuild goodwill. But his posture was held straight, an unnatural rigidity to his movements.

Qrow joined him, not quite reaching for his hand, but allowing their knuckles to brush together. The effect was miniscule, but there, just the slightest drop of his shoulders as his face eased into a small, not-quite-there smile.

Okay. He could work with this.

* * *

It was funny how easy it was to trick a Vacuon when they thought they were the ones playing it. All it took was some altruistic speeches from the kids about wanting to help because that’s what huntsmen did and the words “free of charge” and suddenly they were traveling with a whole parade of people who thought they were getting protection for nothing. Which was mostly true – except of course, now they had a place to stay in and quicker way to the academy.

It also kept them busy, trading off shifts throughout the day to keep watch on their surroundings. Which meant it was almost two days later before he finally had a moment alone with Clover. The wayfarers who they were assisting had a strict habit of bearing down at the hottest part of the day to conserve resources and energy. With JNPR 2.0 on duty and RWBY helping with lunch, Qrow took the opportunity to retire to their makeshift quarters.

As he stepped into the tent, he found his segue into the conversation was going to be more on the nose then he’d planned for.

Clover was seated on one of the various sleeping mats, Harbinger in his lap as he tended to her gears. “Hey.” He greeted. “How’d scouting go?”

“Uh. Fine.”

Seeming to sense his unease, the huntsman paused, looking between him and the weapon. “Oh, sorry! I guess I should do this later.”

“No!” The word burst out of him, startling them both. Qrow cleared his throat, repeating more levelly, “No, it’s fine really. I told you to take care of her.”

To prove his statement, he took the few steps forward to sit directly across from him.

Clover eyed him skeptically for several long moments, perhaps trying to puzzle out if he was trying a backwards form of recovery or just talking big. He seemed to decide the former as he bent back over the sword. “Well, I’m glad you’re here. A lot of grit is getting in-between the gears. But I’m worried about messing up the mechanics.” He offered him a smile. “Harbinger’s really intricate. You did an amazing job.”

“Laying it on a little thick there, aren’t ya Ebi?” He scooted forward just a little, pointing to the correct parts as he spoke. “First loosen the spindle here. Then you can take out the suspension spring and remove this gear.”

They spent the next several minutes just going about the task. Even though he was guiding another’s hands through the motions, the work was so familiar it was relaxing. He even found it possible to keep hold of the small, easily lost pinions as they were removed. All the while, he studied Clover as he worked, the way his brow furrowed with deep concentration or how his strong hands never faltered as he took out each gear with care and reverence. As if the weapon was as cherished as his own.

“Last one.” Qrow announced as the fifth pinion was dropped into his palm.

“You know, before I really was praising you.” The smallest cog came out with a small pop, being added to the growing collection on the cloth Clover had laid out. He finished his statement with a mirthful smile, “But now I’ve determined you went too far.”

He snorted. “Sorry my sword-scythe-shotgun hybrid is a _little_ more complicated than your basic fishing rod.”

He gasped in mock offense. “My darling may not have all your weapon’s fancy little tricks, but it gets the job done with just as much grace.”

“Oh, that’s what you call all that flailing around?”

“Watch it Branwen.”

“What? Am I-” The rest of his words ‘ _on thin ice_ ’ died in his throat. “Uh-”

This time, Clover misinterpreted his floundering. “What, am I doing it wrong?”

He focused on where the other’s hands were, his own quickly reaching out to catch his, only to abort the motion just as quickly when his fingertips skimmed Harbinger’s surface. _That_ Clover noticed.

He ran the same hand over the back of his neck. “Uh, don’t remove that unless you want her coming apart completely.”

“Alright.” Clover lifted his hand from the center plate obediently. “Are you doing okay or should we stop?”

Dropping the pinions onto the cloth beside the other parts, he tried not to let it feel like too much of a failure. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

“Why would I be uncomfortable?” He replied with a frown.

Qrow stared. Was he being serious right now? “You’re kidding. If anything you should be more repelled to be holding her than me.”

“But I’m not. I never have been.”

The frustration broke over like a wave so that his next words flooded out like a tide of turbulent emotions, “Why **_not?_** You’re the one who got hurt! Why is it so easy for you?!”

_No, no. Shut up._

He slouched over, scrabbling hands through his hair, tugging at the ends as if it would ground him back to the present.

This was going all wrong. He wasn’t supposed to be getting angry.

“I-I mean-” He started to say.

Clover cut him off. “Have you ever considered things were different from my perspective?”

He blinked. Looked up. “What?”

The other huntsman’s gaze drifted, falling down to the blade still in his lap. He ran his palm along the surface. “I never saw it. Or if I did, my mind’s blocked it out. I… remember pain. How hard it was to breathe. But as far as anything I saw in that moment? All I can think of is gray. A dark gray, almost black, but kind of green too?”

Qrow frowned, trying to piece that together. Atlas wasn’t exactly known for its abundance of greenery. The only green thing he could think of was Clover’s own pin. Maybe it was just his body going into shock, making him see things that weren’t actually there.

“Either way,” He continued, idly tracing the intricate patterns embedded in the sword’s metal. “What I’m getting at is, the only reason I know this was the weapon that struck me is because I was told it was. To me, it’s kind of removed from the whole event.” His movements stopped, that same dismayed look from several days ago clouding his features. “Instead, I have other problems.”

Seemed like they were going to have that conversation after all. “Like what happened with Jaune.”

“Yeah. I hadn’t meant to attack him. I just thought…” Clover slumped, trailing off.

“That he was someone else. I know.” Qrow said in the space left behind. “Known for awhile, actually. I knew it was an issue, but I hadn’t said anything. Tch. I should of. Maybe then-”

A flick to his forehead had him jerking back.

“Stop.” Clover’s fingers soothed over the spot, sliding down along the contours of his face to cup his jaw. “You’re not responsible for my problems Qrow. It’s my job to acknowledge them and ask for help if I need it.”

There was a lot of things he thought to say, the most prominent being how Clover never seemed to have an issue laser focusing on Qrow’s problems and addressing them (though, to be fair, those results didn’t always pan out) – but what he finally decided on saying was, “ _Do_ you need help?”

Teal eyes went wide and he drew back. The look on his face, vulnerable and lost, was heartbreaking. “I, uh. I don’t know.”

“Would you like to try something?” He pressed on gently.

“Like what?”

“An exercise.” He waved towards Harbinger. “Set her aside and take off your shirt – Don’t smile like that, I’m not gonna do anything lecherous.”

Clover laughed. “Ah, there goes all my hopes and dreams.” Still, he did as commanded, laying the blade to his left before peeling off the green shirt he wore.

Qrow managed not to stare at the metal plating built into the center of his chest, stitching his body together like a broken doll. Instead he reached forward, undoing the red bandanna around the man’s arm – one of the only things he’d kept of his old uniform, besides the boots – and tied the cloth around his eyes instead.

“Uh, Qrow?” Now blind, Clover sounded a lot more uncertain.

He ran a hand through short brown locks. “When I used to teach, I would do this with the students.”

“Lot to unpack with that statement.” He was barely containing a laugh.

It was his turn to flick him. “Shut it and listen.” He got to his feet, speaking as he rounded the other. “It was usually for typical stuff. Figuring out what movements they knew by reflex and what they needed to work on. Keeping an ear on their surroundings when their eyes can’t. But sometimes,” He stopped directly behind him. “It was to help break bad habits.”

Clover was already tense. “Really?”

“Ruby’s footwork used to be terrible. Got worse when she discovered her semblance – she was tumbling all over the place. Taking away her sight made her focus harder on every step she made. Made her more aware of everything she was doing.” Qrow reached out, fingertips brushing along the base of Clover’s neck, the skin shuddering under his touch. “That’s what I want you to do. Focus on the way your body reacts and correct it.”

“This… seems a little unconventional.”

He knelt down behind him. “Sometimes it’s the unconventional methods that work. Now,” He laid his palm flat along metalwork layered over his spine, hearing the sharp inhale. “Let’s get started.”

* * *

Qrow couldn’t say for how long, exactly, the exercise went on for – but it was certainly not as long as he would have kept one of his students at it. Where he’d push them to continue even just a minute longer, he was more willing to pull back with the brunette, knowing this was taking a mental toll along with the physical one. So, when he noticed Clover’s efforts were turning to frustration, he was quick to call for a break, offering that maybe they could finish up with Harbinger in the interim.

Clover, stubborn man he was, didn’t want to quit entirely though.

That was how they ended up sitting back to back as Qrow polished off the gears and pins and Clover set them into place.

_Healing takes many forms_ , Qrow mused as he handed over the third cog and reached for the next, the anxiety he normally felt completely, blissfully absent.

Felt the stretch of muscles against his own as Clover worked, his erratic breathing and shakes having steadied a while ago.

One day, he hoped they could come out of this without their demons controlling them.

Yet, he knew recovery was a difficult, haphazard mess of a journey; so that day was in a future he still couldn’t quite discern, no matter how hard he looked.

Not that he could say he was surprised. His life had never been simple and that track record wasn’t going to let up a four decades’ long streak so easily – but, for once, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

For the one brightness he could see in all this was right behind him.

Qrow slid down, just enough to rest his ear against the metal along Clover’s back, the reassuring _thump-thump-thump_ of his heart a gift he’d never waste.

For it beat with the promise that he was here.

He was alive.

And, Qrow recklessly dared to believe, he was his.

Another gift he’d never waste.

A devotion he’d never dishonor.

A _love_ he’d forever hold onto.


End file.
